Challenge Accepted
by Xx8BlueMoon8xX
Summary: Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are absolutely scared shitless. Not that you would admit it of course, but sitting here under the watchful gaze of your as close as crazy you can get without being legally insane best friend as she clutched a needle only a mere hand length away from your throat, yeah your shits were pretty scared off by now. But you'd still never admit it.


Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are absolutely scared shitless.

Not that you would admit that bit of information of course, but sitting here under the watchful gaze of your as close as crazy you can get without being legally insane best friend as she clutched a needle only a mere hand length away from your throat, yeah your shits were pretty scared off by now.

But you'd still never admit it.

That's how you had gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. Admitting to not wanting some new bling from your bestie regardless of its ironic, and according to her, cool appeal was not on your agenda. There was no way you were letting her get the upper hand on you, not after she had accepted your challenge and got those god awful rattails. Said offensive hair extensions were currently splayed out on your bed sheets as one hand idly played with the strands between painted nails while the other grasped the polished needle.

"Ok. Are you sure this'll look as cool as you think, because I'm pretty sure this is all just some ruse to get me to look like an absolute fucking tool," you say, trying no to sound too whiny.

"Naw it'll look dope, I'm tellin' ya man," she replies in her sloppy accent, and scoots closer to you.

You brush her hand away and adjust yourself. "I don't know, Meenah…"

"Shut yer yappin' and hold the fuck still," the girl opposite you snaps and drops the hair strands to grasp your wrist tightly. "What are ya? An octopus? Enough with the wigglin'. We're doing this."

"We're making this happen," you can't help but rattle of the clichéd response. Force of habit. "And can you please quit with the fish stuff. I know you have a creepy fetish for them, or whatever, but-"

"Hey! My love for the beautiful creatures of the deep is in no way some sick kink, asshole." Meenah playfully smacks your shoulder with the hand previously holding your wrist. You can now freely bring the arm up to stretch and let out a sigh.

"Let's just get this done with. I have things to do. Places to be."

"Oh yeah like building your little robot pals. Gotcha," she says and leans over you to dab your earlobe with a cotton swab.

You ignore the jab and opt to wrinkle your nose at the bitter smell from the rubbing alcohol fumes. You watch your friends head bob as she wipes your ear down and can't help but admire her style. The long, dark tails of hair draping down her back do actually overall compliment Meenah and as she pushed back her goggle styled glasses to see better, you chuckle.

"Stop laughing," she says, annunciating the last part so she knows that you know she means "fin". As in a fish fin. What a dork. "I'm gonna mess up and stab you."

"You better not," he reply. "And I'll stop laughing when you stop with those lame fish puns. They're not even clever."

"Your mom's not clever!"

"Don't go one, bro" you retaliate, and you practically feel her wince.

"Oh codfish. Dirk I'm sorry! You know I didn't mean-"

"Save it," you mumble, having not have meant to make her uncomfortable. "And codfish? That's a whole new sweep of lame. You've officially crossed into Loserville. Grand resident at Dorkdom." You switch to some light-hearted ironic teasing hoping to brighten the mood.

Meenah glances at you over her should, and you get a glimpse of dark freckles, mirroring your own similarly despised facial blemishes. She crinkles her nose in disgust making the spattering of freckles follow the movement. "Ew no stop. Now you just sound like Dave."

"Oh ew you're right," you mock shudder and adjust your knees again. They had begun to burn from being drawn tight to your body in one position for so long. "Let's get a move on. My damn ears are clean enough."

"Ok," Meenah shrugs and brought the needle closer. "You asked for it!"

3… 2… 1- Wait. No. You panic. What are you doing? "Wait no," you shout, well as much of a shout as you can muster, which isn't very loud. "Stop."

She cackles a wheezy sounding laugh and pulls back. "Damn, Strider! I had no idea you were this afraid!"

You frown, disappointed in yourself for faltering. "Look. I'm just… what if this is a bad idea?"

Meenah stops picking at her nails only to give you a toothy smile. "Who cares. It's not like you gotta keep them in or anything. They ain't permanent!"

You sigh. She's got you. Hook, line, and sinker. Fuck now she has you making the lame ass fishy puns, too. "Ok yeah I guess you're right… It's really not that bad."

"Exactly! Where's your sense of adventure, Strider!"

"Up your ass, Peixes." She gets you back with a swift poke of a needle through tender flesh, but you stay strong with your usual pokerface, no signs of emotion at all behind your tinted shades. The needle goes all the way through, Meenah dabs the small speck of blood with another swab, then gently pushes in the fake diamond stud you two had bought earlier at Claire's. The earring slides in easily enough allowing Meenah to pull away the needle. And just like that, it was over.

"There!" the teen cries out enthusiastically and leans as far back as she could, without falling off your bed, to get a better look. "Very smooth," she does a little wolf whistle and you slap her thigh, the tips of your ears turning red.

"Stop." You glance back to get a look in your dresser mirror and groan. You look like a total tool, just as you had expected. But then again, the small glint of diamond does add a sort of mysterious flair to your stoic look you got going on. "This looks totally gay," you announce.

"I don't see the problem there," Meenah flashes another grin, and before you can reply she's again coming towards you with the needle.

You freeze, and then practically jump backwards in a flurry of unmade bed. "Woah! What are you doing!" You try to keep calm, but it's sort of difficult when 100 pounds of fishy punk girl is coming right for you. Her knobby shoulders shrug, and she lowers the needle a smidge.

"I don't know? I sorta figured you'd want the other one, too."

Two ear piercings? You were already slightly regretting the first one. A second on would just be stupid. But the way Meenah's eyes glittered as she sized you up, testing you, seeing if you'd back down or not, made a nerve jump. Still keeping a calm face, you reluctantly reply, "Yeah sure I guess. Just be careful."

Without another word, she repeats her motions on the second ear until an identical stud is lodged in your lobe. This time, you're prepared so it doesn't hurt as much. You hear the wet pop as the needle breaks tissue, and the click of Meenah clasping the stud shut. Opening your eyes behind your shades, you strain your neck to look at the second piercing. It was… actually not as bad as you thought it'd be? The skin around the diamond was flushed red and swollen, but that would go down. You allowed yourself a tiny smile as the corners of your lips turned up. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? It'd be a thing just for you. Your thing. Dirk's thing. Not Dave's, not your older brother's, just your's.

"I see that smile, hot stuff. Don't try to hide it from me," Meenah sang in that smug voice of hers. "You liiiike it," she drawled out.

"Hey. You liked how your hair turned out. Can't a guy enjoy the fruits of his own labor in peace?"

"What labor! I did all the work!" Meenah shouts, but she's smiling so you know everything's ok. You're both in this together. Her, with her weird goggle glasses and rattails and blue haired girlfriend. And you with your weird pointy anime shades and puppet obsession and newly pierced ears. But it was all ok. You were two freaks in a pod. A pod of whales that is.

"I heard that! Was that a fish pun? It was, wasn't it! You adorable twat!"

Oh shit you had said that last part out loud.


End file.
